Disapproval and a Child's Scorn
by Reno Keehl
Summary: First person. Jason reflects on his life and death as Robin and his unspoken affection for Bruce. Brief use of language.


_It doesn't matter how far gone I am, or how far gone people think I am. There are moments in my life that I will never forget, and there are moments that can still bring tears to my eyes. I am not crazy, I am not stupid. I am simply a boy who had everything he cherished suddenly torn from him. I am just trying to reclaim what might have been mine._

When he found me, I was just a street kid. I knew right enough, but I always had my way of doing things. I used to believe our meeting that day was fate; I still do. Right away, I knew I would always be just second best. He was constantly comparing me to Dick Grayson. Damn goody-two shoes… Maybe I resented him for that. I wasn't gifted like he was, and I had to work hard at everything I did just to get it right, but I wanted so much to be praised by him. I wanted him to say my name, to be proud of me.

Ha, I was just as naïve as he was for wanting that. Each time we went out, I stumbled. I was always "too rebellious," "too compulsive," "too brutal." If the prestigious mantle of Robin as boy wonder could be tarnished, I think I've done it. Boy blunder…I've heard that before, and I'm sure he thought it all the time. My life was the darkest stain on his legacy. I was young then, I thought I could please him in time, but I underestimated how stubborn I was. I could not change to fit into Grayson's perfect boy mold. I am misshapen and odd, maybe a little rough around the edges… But I was convinced that I'd win him over, so I pushed the limits of my own strength. Each time, I only further upset him, and instead of praise, all I received was reprimand. I resented him for that, too.

Little did I know then that our life together would be abruptly ended by a sick twist of fate, shaped by a series of bizarre happenings. I can recall that crowbar and that damn clown's voice, and how I writhed in excruciating pain each time the steel collided against my bones. When I close my eyes, I can recall every single strike, and my blood boils again. How naïve I was indeed! I was just a kid…I wanted to know my mother, and what does my mother do? Sell me out to my fucking murderer! She was lucky to die when she did. Had she lived a few years longer, I'd come back and kill her myself! She was just as much to blame for this! She was just as bad as the Joker for taking me away from Bruce!

Why…why do I still feel like a heartbroken child when I think about it? No matter how many I've killed, no matter how cold I've become, when I think about it, about that moment when I looked at the timer as it ticked my life away, I still want to cry. That was the moment I knew I would not see him again, and even then, I was bitter. I could not accept that our ties would be so suddenly severed, and in a single moment, I lost everything good I've ever known in life…even if it wasn't mine to keep… I knew then that I was going to die without ever receiving his approval, without hearing his voice, or seeing his face… Mostly, I was afraid then that I was going to die without ever being loved enough for him to recall.

After a series of strange events, I was brought back from the grave… I didn't care how or why it happened. I just knew I had to find him, and so, in an effort to see him once more, I adopted a new alias, and having poor humour, I naturally chose the former name of my murderer, the Red Hood. I began fighting crime my way, in hope that I would eventually lure him out, only to see him for a little while. It didn't matter if there were simpler ways of seeing Bruce Wayne… As far as the world knew, Jason Todd was a dead man, and I intended to remain so. I did not want to admit it myself, but my days with him as Robin were over. I was dead to him, just as I was dead to the rest of the world that knew me. I had Gotham's underground at gunpoint, and I became their merciless god in order to gain Batman's attention. I made no real effort to conceal my identity, leaving him small clues along the way.

I never thought that when I saw him again, he would look upon me with such concern, though there was disapproval in his voice, and I knew it. I've always known Bruce's disapproval. Still, the fact that he remembered me almost brought me to tears. I've missed him so much by then, as I do now. It was strange looking at him on the other side, knowing that to him, I might as well have been one of them, and it was painful knowing that I could never again be by his side like the old days. Death has taken everything from me! To mock me, I found that damn clown still alive! I could not understand! Why would he allow the very man that killed me to continue living, to continue killing? It might have been less painful if he had forgotten me altogether, but to know that he still hold me in his memories while he let that psychopath go loose? I felt betrayed. ..

He said it would be too easy to just kill him, but I don't understand… So what if it was? If it had been him that the Joker had killed, if I had been the one left behind, I would have tracked him down and murdered him with my bare hands. That thin line was one, has been one, that I was always willing to cross, especially for Bruce. I don't think he knew then how much he hurt me, even if his intentions were just. I would have given anything at all if it meant I could have continued on with Bruce. My life and death was not his greatest failure. His greatest failure was letting me go again!

I never blamed him for my death, even though I often dreamed of how things might have been now if he had saved me. Would that world be any different from our reality now, or were we damned from the start? Sometimes, I like to pretend that I had only been away for days, and that the next time I see him, he would smile and receive me as he once did. I wonder if he understood what I meant that night. I like to believe that he did not, because the thought of being passed up for "the right thing," is too much for me to bear. What I really meant to say? "I did it because he took me away from you! Because I was made to leave this world without ever telling you how much I love you!" If I would have said those words then, I wonder if he would have reacted the same. Sometimes, I think not knowing is best, because I fear that he would have… I hope he never understands because no matter how many times I receive his disapproval, the sting doesn't lessen, and to be rejected by him now…To be rejected by him after everything we've been through? I think I would rather die again…


End file.
